


In Your Dreams

by clare009



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, PWP, caryl ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:57:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clare009/pseuds/clare009
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl seems to be the man of her dreams, but Carol is not so sure she should want him the way she does in reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Your Dreams

 

He was down there, between her legs. Her thighs wrapped around his head as his tongue licked rhythmically between her folds. Each swipe sent sinuous strands of pleasure curling through her. She began to shake as her control slipped away. Without warning, she clenched, and then released with a sob as she shuddered through an explosion of intense feeling. It was forceful enough to bring her crashing awake.

 

The last tremors were still shaking through her as Carol blinked away the dream. She bit her lip as she sat up in her bunk. Goddamn. It had felt so unbelievably real.

 

A sound outside of her cell caught her attention. Her head snapped up just as the sheet she'd pinned up for privacy was twitched aside. Daryl peered into her cell, rubbing his eyes.

 

"What the fuck, you alright?"

 

"Fine, I'm fine," Carol said, squeaking the words out. Heat flooded to her cheeks as she clutched her blanket up to her chin.

 

He cocked his head at her, narrowing his eyes. "You sure?"

 

"I'm sorry. Did I… er... wake you?"

 

"Wasn't asleep. I heard you cryin' out about something. Thought you called me."

 

"No… I…" I just had a sex dream about you… "It was a dream. That's all. Sorry."

  
  
He nodded, his eyes flicking to her and then to the floor. "Wanna talk about it?"

 

Carol's eyes widened. "No. No, no, it's fine. I'm good."

 

Daryl glanced at her again. He kept his mouth shut, but didn't make any attempt to move away. She stared at him for a moment, hoping like hell he couldn't see how mortified she was. It didn't help that she had a vivid picture in her mind of the crown of his head as he feasted between her thighs. Shit. She couldn't handle this new awareness of him, and definitely not when he was standing only a few feet away.

 

"Look, I'm fine, really. Go back to sleep."

 

He grunted as he pushed off against the cell bars. The sheet flapped back into place, and his words floated to her as he slunk away, "Told you, wasn't asleep."

 

Carol rubbed at the sweat that had formed on her forehead and pressed her thighs together to try and alleviate the still sensitive spot between them. What was wrong with her? Why, all of a sudden, this? She didn't need this, god… They lived their lives on a knife's edge, each breath could be their last--there wasn't the luxury for whatever this was.

 

Curling up into herself on her bunk, she tossed her blanket aside, it was too goddamn hot, anyway. She squeezed her eyes shu and willed herself to go back to sleep.

 

It was useless. She heard every creak, every thud that came from next door as Daryl did whatever it was he did at night in his cell. Why had he moved in next to her, anyway? He hadn't been there to begin with, not when they'd first taken the prison. When had he made the transition? Had it been been before Lori and T-Dog? If you could mark time by the people they'd lost... No, Carol remembered. It was definitely after Lori. He'd shown up the day he'd come back after going off with his brother. He'd dumped his stuff in the cell next door without a single word and that was that.

 

She hadn't really thought anything of it, not really. Only that it was nice to have him nearby. She'd come to depend on his presence in small ways, ways she'd never intended. He'd wormed himself under her skin. She thought she was done caring about anyone and anything, but she should have known it was not in her nature. She had no choice but to care for the others, for the children especially, and for him… Maybe she cared for him a touch more because, despite his devil may care exterior, she knew he, of all of them, desperately needed it.

 

But this other thing, this was new. Carol didn't know what to do with the emotions that had been stirred up by the dream. Long, long, long ago, any form of sexuality she may have possessed had been trampled and beaten out of her. She hadn't thought it was possible for her to feel those sorts of things again. She'd been comfortable flirting around with Daryl, teasing him in that way precisely because she believed herself to be immune to him.

 

God, how could she be so wrong?

 

Caryl bit her lip. It was just a dream. It was nothing. In the morning, she wouldn't even remember it. Everything would be fine.

 

But it wasn't fine in the morning.

 

She'd climbed out of bed earlier than usual. No point hanging around when she wasn't getting any sleep. After sluicing off with a blast of cold water in the showers, she'd taken a jog around the perimeter fences. Over the last few months she'd made it a point to check the fences for walkers, and any possible weaknesses, at least twice a day. It also helped to keep fit--they might be safe in the prison for now, but Carol knew the minute you dropped your guard, the minute you became complacent, you were dead meat. She'd never be a victim ever again.

 

Glen gave her a mock salute from the top of the guard tower. She watched as Maggie walked towards the door of Glen's tower with a canteen of water and some of the bread they'd baked the day before. It amazed her, after all they'd been through, how strong the couple's connection was. Steel forged in fire. She'd been slightly envious of them, if she had to admit it. They had something she'd never have. Young love, even here at the end of the world.

 

Her heart thumped hard in her chest as she rounded the end of her third circuit. She'd never be young again, that was for sure. In this new world, the sand in her hourglass was running out all too fast.

 

Daryl was waiting for her in the kitchen area. Of course he was. He was sitting on one of the tables, his usual spot first thing in the morning. Seeing him made her heart race in a different kind of way.

 

Ducking to avoid his forthright gaze, she grabbed a towel from one of the racks and wiped away the sweat from her forehead and her chest. It was already warm out, and the day was sure to be blistering by midday. God, what she wouldn't give for a tall glass of iced water. Or tea. Sweet cold tea.

 

He threw her a nod as she began to stoke the fire under their makeshift stove. He was chewing on something. She saw it as she glanced briefly at him while she pulled the cannister of oats off a shelf and grabbed a large pot. It was a crust, probably from that same loaf that Maggie had just pilfered. For some reason, the thought of him gnawing on that crust, just sitting there like nothing was different, just looking at her and not saying anything, pissed her off.

 

"You know, we are on rations. Can't just go around eating whatever you want  in front of the others when I have to tell them no. Maggie, too. She had half a loaf in her hand this morning. I was saving that for lunch."

 

Daryl raised an eyebrow and continued to chew.

 

She walked off to one of the nearby water tanks and began to fill the pot up with water. As she returned to the kitchen, water sloshing over the edge of the pot, she saw Daryl tear another bite from his crust, his look a blatant challenge.

 

Carol grunted as she hefted the pot onto the stove. "I know you think there's more than enough to go around, but it's not gonna be summer forever. When winter sets in we need to make sure we have enough food stored up to last, not just for us, but for any refugees that might come our way, too."

 

Daryl snorted and hopped off the table. "Someone woke up grumpy today." His lips twitched and she knew he was laughing at her. He walked over to her, and she stiffened as he leaned towards her and held out his remaining piece of bread. "Saved this bit for you."

 

He was too close. It was making her jittery. "No, it's fine. Have it."

 

"Don't want it now."

 

"Just take it, Daryl, you don't eat enough as it is."

 

He waved the crust in front of her. "If you don't grab it, I'm gonna drop it."

 

"Don't. That would be a waste."

 

"Then I guess it's gonna be a waste."

 

He opened up his fingers, but Carol snatched the bread from him before it could fall to the floor. Stubborn ridiculous asshole. "Thanks," she said, not meaning it in the least.

 

Of course he had the gall to smirk at her. "Goin' huntin'. That'll fill your pot tonight."

 

She sucked in a breath at the look he threw her before he sauntered off. Was he doing it on purpose? Did he know?

 

Carol shook her head. No, Daryl had come out of his shell over the last few months. He was certainly more relaxed with her, more inclined to take a joke, to weather the teasing with good nature and throw back some jabs of his own. It didn't mean anything. Of course it didn't.

 

She groaned as she sank her head into her hands. Not for the first time, she wished Lori was there to talk to. She needed another woman to confide in, to give her some perspective. She supposed she could approach Maggie, but she shook her head at the thought of opening up to the younger woman. She knew exactly what Maggie would tell her to do. Life's short--just go for it. But Maggie was too young to understand that this was more than simply the need to scratch an itch. Lori would have understood. Who else could she talk to?

 

In fact, her closest friend was Daryl himself, and there was no way in hell she'd tell him about this. Carol chuckled at the thought. Oh, Daryl, by the way, suddenly I'm horny as hell  and you're looking real good there buddy… God. He'd think she'd finally lost it, if he didn't tuck tail and run as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

 

Well, at least she could laugh at herself.

 

Maybe she should just chalk it up to the hormonal changes her body was going through at her age.

 

She was able to busy herself with the day to day routine of running the prison camp that they'd settled in to. First there was breakfast, then cleaning, then the morning council meeting. They'd been talking about starting to train the kids to protect themselves, and Carol had agreed to take on the job. They'd all agreed to keep the training quiet--some of the parents were not fully on board with it, but Carol knew that their current safety was only an illusion. The kids' training was vital.

 

After the meeting, lunch was started, then laundry needed to be overseen. Everyone had their jobs to do.

 

Daryl returned just before dinner prep had begun, and, true to his word, dropped two wild turkeys on the counter, already plucked, and a brace of squirrels to boot.

 

Carol couldn't help the small flutter of relief that went through her when she'd heard the roar of his bike in the distance. The tension that she'd been holding between her shoulders for the whole day suddenly eased. Daryl was fine. He was back where she could keep an eye on him.

 

Except, when he'd looked across at her from over the carcasses he'd dumped on the table, she felt all the air rush out of her. It was like a switch had been flipped, and suddenly a wave of heat washed over her leaving her tongue-tied and trembling.

 

Daryl gave her a nod, then walked off to clean up.

 

Pain shot through her finger, and Carol yelped. She'd accidentally sliced herself with the can opener. She stuck her finger quickly into her her mouth to stem the flow of blood.

 

"God damn it," she muttered to herself.

 

"Everything okay?" It was Jan, one of the women who'd volunteered to help her. The older woman set her cutting knife down and started forward, but Carol waved her off.

 

"It's nothing, don't worry." The bleeding took only a few moments to stop, the cut wasn't deep, but Carol was having trouble regaining her composure. She thought she had everything under control, and really, she'd been able to put it all out of her mind as she busied herself with the day's work, but the minute Daryl had strutted into her domain, it had all come unravelled.

 

She inspected her finger and rinsed it off quickly in with a splash of water. She shouldn't let him affect her like this.

 

"Someone give that man a shower and a haircut. I bet he'd clean up real nice."

 

"What?" Carol spun around to see Jan grinning at her as she continued to dice fresh tomatoes for the pot.

 

"Daryl Dixon. Don't tell me you haven't noticed, honey. That man is fine."

 

"I, um, no, I hadn't really thought about it." God, was she blushing?

Jan gestured at her with the knife. "Now look here, darlin', I may be old enough to be sonny boy's mama, here, but even I can admire a fine piece of god's creation. No red blooded woman could deny it, so why are you? You don't' have to be shy to admit he gets your engine revving."

 

Jan gave a full-bodied chortle as Carol tried to figure out how to reply without giving herself away. She picked up the can opener, put it down, inspected her finger, blushed some more, and, eventually, gave up and snorted. "Fine. So Daryl does have a certain, um--" she waved her arm in the air and tried to ignore how hot her cheeks were.

 

"Animal charm?" Jan supplied.

 

Carol snorted again and smiled. "Yeah. That's a good way to describe it." Then she shook her head. "Not that I would ever tell him that."

 

"And why not, honey? Women have needs, jus' like men do. Don't ever let 'em tell you otherwise. Nothing wrong with communicatin' that to a man. Especially now, y'know. You don't' know what's a commin' round the corner."

 

Carol rubbed at the back of her neck as she listened to Jan. She couldn't deny what the woman said was true, but… "It's just… Daryl? I… I couldn't."

 

Jan gave her a knowing look. "That man is as skittish as an unbridled colt, sweetheart, but I bet if you approached him in jus' the right way, he'd let you ride him."

 

Carol gasped, and then laughed. Jan did, too, and it felt good. She didn't know the older woman very well, she was one of the stragglers from the town of Woodbury, but Carol thought that maybe she might be worth getting to know.

 

The evening meal was a rush, as usual. The prison settlers lined up to receive their portions--not so different to the way things had been in this place before, Carol thought, except that now people kept the chatter subdued. They spoke only in low voices and whispers. They all knew the importance of keeping the noise level down, especially at dusk.

 

When the food line had trickled down to nothing and Carol was tucking into her own meal, she spied Daryl conversing rather reluctantly with some of the men, Rick was there, too. Where Rick was, Daryl often wasn't far behind. She knew Daryl used Rick as a sort of buffer, and others that weren't a part of their core group hesitated to approach when it was the two of them together. Rick's reputation had, apparently, preceded him. But, still, folks were getting braver, and even Rick was starting to warm up to some of the outsiders.

 

Daryl, on the other hand…

 

He looked up and spotted her staring at him. Carol forced herself to keep eye contact. She wasn't going to blush and look away, no matter how quickly her heart was beating. She forced out a smile and gave him a tiny wave.

 

He threw her a nod in response, and, to her surprise, he detached himself from the wall he was leaning against and sauntered over to her.

 

"Hey," he said.

 

"Hey yourself." Carol groaned inside. Really slick, girl.

 

"Smells good. What you got?" Daryl leaned over the counter.

 

"Well, there's good old squirrel stew…"

 

He made a face. They'd been eating a lot of squirrel, lately, and to make it go far, she usually slow cooked it with canned vegetables. It went with either rice or powdered mashed potatoes. It wasn't exactly haute cuisine. "What about those turkeys?"

 

Carol produced a genuine smile. "Now you're talking about the daily special. We have turkey and dumpling soup, courtesy of Jan over here, who, I might have to say, makes the best dumplings in Georgia."

 

"It's my mama's recipe," Jan said as she began to ladle soup into a bowl for Daryl.

 

Daryl took the bowl and breathed in the aroma of the soup. "Thank god for your moma," he said.

 

He started devouring the soup right away, but Carol put out a hand. "Hold on for a sec," she said as she ducked behind the counter to retrieve something she'd been saving for him. She pulled out a hunk of bread left over from the batched they'd baked and handed it to him.

 

"What's this?"

 

"For you."

 

Daryl gave her an odd look. "I thought you'd used it all up for lunch."

 

Carol shrugged. "You weren't here for lunch. That's your share."

 

"Thanks." He gave her a quick, tight smile, that was gone in a flash. But she'd seen it, and it was enough to warm her heart.

 

They didn't talk much as they ate, but the silence was companionable. They didn't need words between them. It was just enough to be there, together.

 

Carol couldn't help sneaking glances at him, and then grinning when she caught his eyes. It became a sort of game, and the more she caught him, the wider she grinned, until she started to giggle, and he snorted and shook his head.

 

It struck her how much she really cared about Daryl.

 

She looked down at his hand that rested against the counter only inches from where hers was. She noted the callouses from his bow, the little nicks and cuts and scrapes that ran across knuckles and the indentations of his wrists, and up his forearms and across his biceps. They were all an indication of what he put himself through every day.

 

Here, behind the walls and fences of the prison, they at least had the illusion of safety, but Daryl took himself out there every day to hunt and scavenge for them. He didn't need them, but they sure as hell needed him.

 

And here she'd been thinking about treating him like some pick up in a bar who she could take home and use to scratch an itch.

 

Her fingers twitched, and without thought, she reached across and squeezed his hand.

 

He shot her a questioning look, but didn't pull away.

 

"Thank you," she said, by way of explanation.

 

"What for?"

 

"For everything you do for us. We wouldn't survive without you." In more ways than one, she thought.

 

Daryl shrugged in his typical fashion. "S'nothing."

 

"It's not nothing. You are very important to us." To me… Carol let out a small sigh. "I hope you realize that."

 

"And what about all the shit you do. Don't think I don't notice." Her eyes snapped to his. He was giving her a look that she couldn't interpret. What was he trying to tell her? She cursed herself for seeking a hidden meaning. Funny, though, how she continued to cover his hand with her own, and how he continued to let her. "This place'd be nothing without you and you know it."

 

She snorted. "There are a dozen people here who could do exactly what I do without breaking a sweat. I may not be a burden, anymore, but I'm not irreplaceable."

 

"That's where you're wrong."

 

She held her breath, waiting for him to elaborate, but Daryl kept his mouth shut. The heat beneath her hand on top of his was rising to scorching levels. She couldn't take it anymore. She quickly removed her hand and stuffed it in her pocket. Turning, she looked for Jan, but found the other woman had silently slipped away, leaving them effectively alone."I should get things cleaned up," she said.

 

"Ain't there others? You done enough. Let them clean up."

 

"If I don't do it--"

 

"You said there are a dozen folks who could do what you do. Well, let 'em."

 

She shook her head. "I don't expect anyone to--"

 

Before she could say anything else, Daryl whistled at a nearby table with a group of stragglers still hunched over empty bowls. "Hey, you lot, get this place cleaned up for the mornin'."

 

They looked at Daryl, then at each other. One man nodded. "Sure, Daryl."

 

"What? No, Daryl, you can't just order people about," Carol said.

 

He shrugged. "Don't see why not. It's time things got organized 'round here. I shouldn't be goin' out alone. Maggie and Glenn shouldn't do all the runs, and you shouldn't have to feed everyone. 'bout time people started earning their keep."

 

"People help out. Jan was here tonight…" Carol chewed on her lip. She knew he was right. Mostly the newcomers kept to themselves. It was because they were hesitant to overstep their bounds. "What about Rick?"

 

"What about him?"

 

Carol threw a glance across the compound, but couldn't see where Rick had gone. She let out a sigh. "I guess he'll just have to deal with it. These people aren't going anywhere."

 

Daryl gave a short nod. "Yeah, exactly." His lips twitched into a small, tight smile. "So, do you wanna get out of here?"

 

She laughed and gave him an arch look. "Well, that depends, your place or mine?"

 

"Stop," he said, shaking his head. But then, his lips twitched. He leaned a closer and said, "'sides, there ain't no privacy at either place."

 

Carol's eyes went wide. Was he trying to flirt back? She went hot all over and opened her mouth like a fish. Daryl chuckled at her. His laugh was a low rumble and did all sorts of unexpected things to her insides. "Well, I can't think right now so you win this round. I'll get you next time, though. I'll get you good."

 

"Oh, I'm counting on it." God, she hoped her blush wasn't as violent as what it felt like. He laughed at her again, and Carol shook her head, unable to hide her grin. It felt so good to hear him laugh, and to know how relaxed he was with her. "C'mon," he said, "the tower's the best place to watch the sunset."

 

They stacked their bowls in the washing up area, and Carol practically skipped after Daryl, feeling light on her feet after a day of hard work. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this carefree… It had been a long, long time ago.

 

They climbed the stairs to the top of the tower to find Michonne standing at sentry duty. As Carol walked through to the balcony, she saw Daryl had saying something she didn't quite catch to Michonne. The other woman threw a quick look at her then nodded.

 

"What did you tell her?" Carol said as they switched places and Michonne vanished down the stairs.

 

"That she might wanna take a break."

 

"Ah." Carol walked up to the railing. She didn't want to examine too closely why Daryl wanted her up here alone. She was afraid of where her thoughts would take her. Instead, she turned to look at the scenery beyond the prison. "It is peaceful up here. Everything's so quiet."

 

The sun was slipping into dusk. It set the trees on the horizon alight with oranges and golds, and sent long shadowy fingers across the open field. You could almost ignore the walkers at the fence in the face of how beautiful it really was. She'd never truly looked at the world, at nature, before the world had changed.

 

Daryl moved quietly beside her and sat down, letting his feet dangle over the edge. He placed one of the semi-automatic rifles next to him. It reminded Carol that even the tranquility up here was an illusion.

 

"Come, sit," he said.

 

She complied and sank down next to him, curling her legs up underneath her. "Sometimes I wonder," she said, softly, "why it took a catastrophic, world-changing event, to get me to wake up. My life before… I might as well have been in a coma."

 

"You would have woken up eventually."

 

"Maybe."

 

"Can't say I was different." She watched him closely. His head was bowed as he inspected his fingers.

 

Carol bit her lip. "Without you… I would have died on that farm."

 

"Not like any one of us couldn't get bit at any time."

 

Shaking her head, she shifted and put a hand on his thigh. "No. I don't mean like that. I mean that after Sophia--" She paused and tasted the name of her daughter on her tongue. It still felt so wrong to her. "After my daughter, I would have simply withered away. I had no reason to fight. Not anymore. 'Cept for you."

 

He slowly raised his head to meet her eyes. "Same."

 

Carol glanced down at his mouth and saw his tongue dart out to lick his lips in that nervous gesture of his. Suddenly, her heart began to pound. She tried to think of a silly way to break the tension that had built up in the air, but her mind was blank. Instead, instinct took over, and she leaned forward and brushed his lips with hers.

 

Immediately, she felt him tense. Carol retreated a fraction. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean… Crap, I--"

 

"Shut up, woman," Daryl said with a growl. He grabbed her face with both hands, pulled her back to him, and kissed her.

 

His lips were warm and rough. His skin was slightly chapped, and the whiskers of his mustache and goatee scratched against her face. The calluses on his hands scraped along the soft skin of her jawline, but despite all this, it surprised her how gentle his kiss was.

 

His tongue tentatively traced the contours of her mouth until she parted her lips with a sigh and sucked on it a little. The small groan at the back of his throat sent an answering jolt down to the pit of her belly.

 

He delicately explored her mouth. She could feel his tremor as he probed and questioned, and she answered him without words, using her lips and her tongue to say everything she couldn't.

 

The intensity of the kiss began to climb as they became more sure of each other. Her hand wound through his hair, and slowly, she eased him back until he was lying down, and she was stretched out half next to him and half on top of him. His hands left her face to cradle her hips as they continued to kiss.

The longer they kissed, the more Carol felt the warmth inside her swell to unbearable proportions. This was nice, this kissing, just like this, and she could probably continue to kiss Daryl for as long as he'd let her, but she was burning up inside, and his hands on her hips were scorching

 

If only he'd move them just an inch higher, then he'd be touching the bare skin above the waistband of her cargo pants. Carol wiggled her hips, encouraging him to move. Daryl moaned into her mouth, so she tried it again, and this time, his hands did move, but instead of up, he slid them around to cup her ass.

 

Carol gasped as he tugged her further on top of him. Her legs straddled his thigh, and when she thrust her pelvis against him, it sent a thrill of electricity through her. As she moved, her hip rubbed against the bulge in his pants.

 

Daryl broke the kiss. "Fuck."

 

She bit her lip, now swollen and tender, and looked down at him. He was staring at her like a damn deer caught in headlights. She rolled her hip, brushing the hard evidence of his erection again.

 

"Jesus, Carol..."

 

The sense of power that flooded through her suddenly was more overwhelming, more dazzling than anything else had been so far. She really was the one in control here. The realization was liberating and terrifying at the same time.

 

She wanted him. God, she ached. She could use him to get herself off and he'd let her. She could do anything to him and he'd let her. And it hurt her heart to see how much trust he had in her.

 

Shaking, she brushed a finger across his cheek. "Daryl, what are we doing here?"

 

His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Thought that was obvious."

 

"Is this what you want? Is this what you brought me up here for?"

 

"Look, I didn't plan it, if that's what you think. But.. ah, fuck…" He turned his head to look away from her. "I ain't good with this shit. Ain't never been. Ain't never done this before."

 

Carol froze. "Are you telling me that you've never--"

 

"Hell, I ain't no fucking virgin," he said, his eyes flashing in her direction. "I jus' never… never done it with someone like you before."

"Someone like me?" She couldn't help the teasing in her voice. It was such a part of their relationship, and really, he brought it out in her.

 

"No. Fuck. I didn't mean it like that." He groaned. "I told you, I was crap at this." Daryl squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and she wondered if he was silently wishing he was anywhere but here with her. She thought he might push her away, but then he said, "I swear, all I wanted was to get you to myself for half a minute. There's always god damn people around, else you're doing stuff. Wasn't planning on jumping your bones if that's what you think."

 

"I know," she said, and gave him a soft smile. It went a long way to soothing his injured expression. "It means a lot to me, that you want to spend time with me. Besides, I kissed you first."

 

"Yeah. That's right. This is all your damn fault."

 

She found a boldness inside her she didn't know she possessed, and reached down to cup the bulge in his pants. "Don't you mean this is all my damn fault?"

 

"God almighty, woman. How's a man s'pose to think straight when you do that?"

 

"How much time do we have?"

 

"Wha--?"

 

Carol grinned at his blank expression. He felt so hard and warm beneath her hand, and she suddenly had the desperate urge to wrap her fingers directly around his cock. She began to fumble with the button of his jeans. "How long before Michonne comes back?"

 

His hips bucked. "Till I tell her," he said, his voice rough and breathless.

 

"How convenient." God knew how she managed to pop the button single-handed, but the zipper slid down easy-like, and she was careful, because, of course, Daryl went commando. She tugged his cock free, and god, but it felt good to wrap her hands around the smooth and silky skin of his shaft. She could only imagine what he'd feel like between her legs, sliding into her.

 

"Aw, fuck," Daryl managed to grunt out, "this will be real quick if you don't stop what you're doing, woman."

 

She giggled, and he raised his head to give her a look. "I think I like torturing you."

 

"Wench."

 

Slipping her hand down further, she cupped his balls briefly then slid her hand back up and swiped a thumb across the glistening head. He thrust into her hand. "I love the way you feel," she said. He groaned in return.

 

Touching him like this, it was nice and all, and the power she had over him was exhilarating, but the ache between her legs was becoming unbearable. Carol sat up and quickly toed off her shoes and shuffled out of her pants and her panties while Daryl watched through lidded eyes. Then, she helped him to tug his jeans down further, and dragged his shirt up a little so she could put her hands on his bare abdomen.

 

"I need you," she said.

 

He nodded. She didn't need any other confirmation. Carol chewed her bottom lip and swung her leg over to straddle him. With a bit of fumbling, she guided him to her entrance. She was already wet and slick, she didn't know how, but she'd been ready for him since she'd woken up that morning, drenched in sweat from her dream.

 

She didn't want to wait anymore.

 

Carol sank down onto him and took him as deep as she could with one motion.

 

"Holy fuck," Daryl said. His hands gripped her hips. "Jesus. You feel…"

 

She arched back and her eyes drifted shut as she let the feeling of being filled settle around her. Daryl bucked up, and the motion sent a jolt of sensation through her. She didn't know… hadn't been sure she'd feel anything, really.

 

Early on in her marriage she'd satisfied herself with hasty fumblings in the dark. She'd felt ashamed, after, with the smell of her own pussy still lingering on her fingers, but she'd never been able to come any other way. Certainly not with Ed. God. And as the years went by, it had become harder to bring herself to completion, until eventually she'd just stopped. What was the point?

 

But as she looked down at Daryl, at the pure and simple trust that radiated from his face, at the way his hands clung to her like she was his life support, hell, she wanted to weep at the waste that had been her life before.

 

Carol set the pace. She moved and ground herself against him until she found a rhythm she liked, and apparently he liked it too, with the way he was breathing hard, and his tongue peaked out the corner of his mouth. It was good, better than good. There was a slow and steady build of pressure inside her. Her body began to thrum with the pleasure of it, and she let out a long, low moan.

 

Gripping her hips tight enough to leave marks, Daryl winced. "Ah, god damn it, I'm gonna--"

He thrusted his hips and held her firmly as his dick began to pulse inside her.

 

Carol watched, fascinated, as he rode out his orgasm as if he was in pain. When he'd finished, she began to climb off, unable to deny the small stab of disappointment. She thought she might possibly have been close.

 

But, just as she moved away, she found herself being flipped onto her back. "What?" she managed to squeak out, before Daryl gave her a quick kiss, then nudged her thighs open and dived between her legs.

 

Carol yelped at the first swipe of his tongue along her folds. He certainly didn't pause for ceremony, got straight to it, and set up a pattern of licks around her clit and down to her entrance. Her head fell back against the hard concrete of the floor as she moaned.

 

God, and she thought her dream had been good, but her dream had been fuzzy and insubstantial, not so hot on the details, but here she felt everything. She felt the cold, hard floor beneath her ass, she felt the scrape of Daryl's beard against her entrance as he sucked at her clit, she felt the soft strands of his hair as she wrapped her fingers through it.

As he licked her, he reached under her shirt to grab her breast.  He tweaked her nipple, alternating between soft flicks and hard pinches that sent thrills of pleasure down to her groin. Then, his hand was beneath her, squeezing her ass. He ran his fingers up the cleft of her ass to find her entrance, and he pushed two inside her.

 

It was the last straw. Carol's whole world narrowed down to a single point, and then it all flew apart. The waves of bliss crashed over her while Daryl continued to lick softly at her folds.

 

She came back to earth with a shuddery sigh. The sight of Daryl's brown head between her legs, and the look of sheer devotion on his face as he placed gentle kisses to her inner thigh made her heart ache. This was so much more than simply using him to scratch an itch.

 

She brushed her fingers through his hair, and he looked up at her with a smirk on his lips.

 

"You didn't have to do that, you know," she said.

 

He crawled up her and kissed her on the lips. "What? And leave my woman unsatisfied?"

 

She giggled. "So I'm your woman?"

 

"Yep," he said as he nuzzled her neck.

 

"Okay, I suppose I can live with that." Her grin said she could more than live with it.

 

"I meant what I said before. I ain't never done this with anyone like you before."

 

"What do you mean? Like me?"

 

His tongue darted out to lick her earlobe and it made her shiver in a good way. "Someone I care about."

 

Carol reached for his face and brought it around so she could kiss him hard. "Same here," she said.

 

He kissed her back, then with some reluctance, untangled himself from her and began to pull his pants back into place. "C'mon, let's go someplace else. This floor ain't the most comfortable."

 

Michonne was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for them. Carol hoped the fading light hid the color she felt on her cheeks as the other woman simply gave them a knowing look before returning to her post.

 

"Oh god, she heard us, didn't she?"

 

Daryl shrugged. "There ain't no privacy in this god damn place to start with. What do you care, anyways?"

 

He stopped his stride across the prison to look at her, and despite his 'I don't give a damn what you think' stance, she knew he did. Carol grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. "I don't care who knows, you're sharing my bed from now on."

 

"Good," he said with a nod. "'cause those dreams of yours were driving me fucking batshit."

 

She stared at him. "What?"

 

"Oh Daryl," he mimicked her voice at her, "harder, Daryl, just there, Daryl, ooooh that's the spot, Daryl--"

 

She wound back and punched him in the shoulder. "You knew?"

 

"Pretty damn sure everyone in cell block C knew." He chuckled. "Real subtle, baby."

 

Carol groaned. "Fuck you," she said, although the words held no sting.

 

"Mmm, again?"

 

"In your dreams."

 

"Nope. I think you mean _your_ dreams."

 

"Ooh, you are going to pay, buster."

 

"Hope so. I been blue-balling for the last three night's jus' listening to you. Give a guy a break."

 

Daryl held his hand back out to her, and Carol shook her head, smiling despite herself. Then, she slipped her fingers through his. She liked the way their palms fit together. It was pretty much like that with everything else when it came to them.

 

"Okay, then. Let's go inside and see if you can live up to all of my fantasies, big boy."

 

"Might not be able to live up to all of 'em."

 

She threw him a glance and saw how his mask of bravado had slipped. "Don't be silly, you've already surpassed them all. And not just the sex ones."

 

And she meant it. He was her man of honor, in every way that counted.

 


End file.
